precipice
by the sun softly smiles
Summary: All of her life, Uzumaki Mito has uncomplainingly done her duty. Selflessly taken care of the responsibilities placed on her shoulders. But here in Konoha, she finds a man that will make her ask, "Would it be so wrong to be a little selfish?" MadaMito. It's pretty much following CANON, so a little HashiMito will be present. K for the moment.
1. crossing paths

_When the moon fell in love with the sun, all was golden in the sky;  
__All was golden in the sky when the day met the night._

Mito sighed and hung her right leg out over the edge of the dock, letting her bare toes dip into the lake. She closed her eyes, making abstract patterns as she trailed her foot through the water, hoping the rhythmic motion would help her to focus.

It had been two days since she had arrived in Konoha, and she was trying her best to play her role… the dutiful daughter, the diplomatic dignitary, and soon… the blushing bride. Just the thought of it made her cringe inwardly, but she was absolutely determined not to let it show. This was her responsibility, and she would fulfill it graciously, never giving anyone the slightest idea that she was decidedly unhappy with the entire situation.

_And why shouldn't I be?_ she thought. _Being traded like livestock to another village, forced to marry a man I hardly know… any kunoichi would be revolted!_ But Mito knew that she had to swallow her pride… for the sake of her clan and her village. This marriage alliance would hopefully secure their future, seeing as Konoha was the result of a union between the two most powerful ninja clans, and her impending nuptials were to the head of the Senju clan, Hashirama.

The other girls her age were excited when they heard the news of her engagement, saying how lucky Mito was to be marrying such a powerful shinobi, and that he was handsome, too! And if that was all Mito wanted out of life, sure, she'd be excited, too. _But how could their dreams be so simple, so shallow? _she asked herself. It didn't make any sense to her. She was a ninja, and she wanted to be respected and admired in her _own_ right, not just because she was married to some village leader. It stung her pride to have her impressive skills overlooked in favor of her appearance and birth.

She groaned aloud and flung herself back onto the dock, throwing hands over her face in frustration. It just wasn't fair! Mito's carefully constructed self-control was crumbling. Two days of forcing niceties and smiles from her lips had really taken their toll. Especially when she had really felt like punching people's faces in the entire time. _This lake is fairly isolated, there's no one around. It won't do any harm to give myself this small reprieve, _she reasoned.

Still laying on her back, she felt the dock bob and sway with the movements of the lake. For a moment, the atmosphere was eerily serene; the breeze gently tugging at the sleeves of her kimono, leaves dancing in the wind, her foot still lazily dangling in the cool water… until Mito fisted her hands in her blood-red hair, opened her mouth, and screamed.

* * *

Uchiha Madara was more than a little irritated.

Needless to say, this was not what he had expected to see as he stalked into the area that he viewed as _his._ He had been looking forward to an afternoon of escape, of sorts. Time spent training alone always did him some good. And he needed to get away… from the clan, from his duties, and especially from Hashirama. He was always droning on and _on _about matters that, quite frankly, Madara didn't care about in the slightest.

But he did have to admit, the scene he had stumbled upon was nothing short of picturesque. A young woman had her eyes closed peacefully, a look of calm gracing her delicate features. With total disregard for her formal attire, she lay sprawled out on the dock, obviously lost in her own thoughts. He didn't know her, which was unusual, but something about that obscenely red hair rang a bell. He contemplated it for a moment, then mentally shook it off and decided to just go up to her and find out. And then demand that she _get. out_.

As he made his way down the grass to the dock, he was coming up with varying degrees of rudeness with which he could tell her to leave when the girl suddenly opened her mouth and let out the highest pitched scream that had ever been inflicted upon his ears.

Resisting the urge to clap his hands over them, he made his way to the end of the dock with strong, purposeful strides. His mind suddenly began listing numerous ways that he could shut her up, possibly permanently if she didn't stop that god-awful screaming. Madara gritted his teeth and stood over her, waiting for the screeching to cease. A few agonizing seconds later, it did, and he crossed his arms, clearing his throat pointedly.

* * *

She opened first one eye, then the other, and squinting upwards, she realized that, yes, she had heard something and that no, that the man towering over her was most certainly _not_ a figment of her imagination.

_Crap! _she thought, as she hastily sat up, yanking her leg back up onto the dock and trying to rearrange her buns, sealing tags, and headpiece into some semblance of their usual order. "Um, I am so sorry, sir. I did not mean to disturb or alarm you! Please accept my sincerest apologies," she ended her short speech with a deep bow, and seeing as she was already kneeling, there wasn't much more deference she could demonstrate.

Madara stared down at the girl, half-listening to her apology while he cataloged the rest of her appearance, still trying to place her. _Red hair and sealing tags… must be an Uzumaki, _he concluded. But why was she here? Not just in Konoha, but more importantly why was she in _his_ spot? His gaze was drawn to the gold headpiece between her buns. _But definitely not just your run-of-the-mill girl. Hm._

After a brief silence, Mito decided to look up at him. _If he doesn't accept my apology, I guess I'll just have to beat him to a pulp! _she thought (a tiny bit gleefully) before she reined herself in. _No more of that. I'm just supposed to be a simpering woman here_, she reminded herself. But as her eyes lifted to meet his, there was no open hostility there, despite his intimidating appearance,. He was considering her with a look that Mito could only describe as… contemplative.

Mito's eyes widened a fraction as his eyes locked onto hers and he parted his lips to speak.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, yes, crack pairing! Crack pairings are always the best.

However, I INTEND FOR THIS TO FOLLOW **CANON**. At least the canonical knowledge available at this time. This fic is just the shady underpinning to that. If that makes sense.

I know Madara is OOC, but hey, we're still some time away from monumental events. He'll (d)evolve into a crazy, obscenely power-hungry ninja eventually. (If this fic continues.) As for Mito... well, honestly, we don't know that much about her. But Kushina _did_ say she was strong so... I'm gonna go with that. (And by "go with that" I mean take it and run with it. hehe.)

Anyhow. This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while, and I had to put it out there! I have lots of ideas for this, and a general idea of where I want the plot to go, but in the past I have just been about the one-shots. So we'll see what happens! This is just kind of a teaser chapter to test the waters.

Thanks for reading, and any concrit is much appreciated! :)

Also, I do not own "When the Day Met the Night" by Panic at the Disco.


	2. crumble

_Help, I'm alive, my heart keeps beating like a hammer,_

___Hard to be soft, tough to be tender._

"Are you hurt?" he asked blandly.

She was a little taken aback by his question. It wasn't what she had expected, and she instantly felt somewhat guilty about worrying this stranger. Mito quickly stood up, as if to demonstrate her uninjured state. "No, but thank you for-"

"Then _why_," the man began, his unaffected speech quickly turning into what was practically a growl, "were you _screaming_?"

"Uh…" for once, Mito's tongue failed her. _What is __**wrong**__ with this guy? _Clearly, he didn't care about her well-being after all. Her mind raced to come up with a rational excuse.

When he realized a half-formed syllable was all the response he'd get to his previous question, he continued, "And _what_ exactly are you doing here?"

Mito raised an eyebrow at his tone. Obviously, she'd offended this guy in some way, and judging by his appearance and how he carried himself, he was pretty important. _Or maybe he's just a big, egotistical jerk! He's not that much older than me, yet he's acting like he owns the place, _her snide side chimed in. Regardless, this was _not_ how she wanted her relations with the inhabitants of Konoha to start out.

He was still waiting for a reply, so she decided to explain the situation as best as she could. Putting on the most contrite face she could manage, she continued her earlier apology, adding what she hoped were details that would help smooth things over. "My name is Uzumaki Mito, and I'm from Uzushiogakure. I'm here in Konoha because I'll be marrying one of the local ninja at the end of the month. I'm terribly sorry about intruding, but I just arrived two days ago and I'm still unfamiliar with the area. I didn't realize that this place was private, and I deeply apologize. I hope you can forgive me, and I can assure you that I won't make the same mistake again. I hope that this will not negatively influence your view of me, as Konoha is to be my new home, and I hope for a good relationship with all of its citizens, including you, sir."

Mito finished the apology with a bow and smirked inwardly. _Let's see you be rude after __**that**__! Hmph. _It had grated on her nerves to be practically groveling, but she'd already resigned herself to doing whatever it took to ensure the success of this arrangement.

"I accept your apology, Uzumaki-san."

She looked up, her eyes tinged with surprise. _Well, at least he decided to be civil, might as well try making a better impression_, she thought. "Thank you… um…"

"Uchiha Madara."

"I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Uchiha-dono," Mito replied with a slight bow. Suddenly, his demeanor made sense. She'd heard about the other founder of Konoha, the one said to be on par with her fiancé… the head of the other prominent clan, Uchiha Madara. _No wonder he acted like he owned the place. He probably does._ _But still, _she reasoned, _that doesn't give him license to act like a total jerk!_

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well, Uzumaki-san."

_Well, well, well, the guy __**does**__ have some manners._

"However, you did not answer my first question. Why were you screaming?"

_So much for getting out of that one. _"Ah, Uchiha-dono, uh… my foot was dangling in the lake and… I thought I felt something brush it underwater. It simply startled me."

"I see," Madara stated simply.

Mito was starting to get uncomfortable, not only because of her weak explanation, but because he was unreadable. He just kept staring at her, his eyes like liquid onyx, never leaving her own.

After a few moments of awkward silence, she decided it would probably be best to excuse herself and leave him to… whatever he was planning to do. "Uchiha-dono, thank you so much for your concern, and I apologize once again. If you'll excuse me, I need to return to my guest quarters and prepare for dinner with my fiancé, Senju-san."

When he didn't say anything else, Mito took that as her cue to leave and brushed past him, making her way back to the edge of the lake. _What a socially awkward, rude man! _she thought as she hurried away.

* * *

Madara was still standing there a moment later, everything having clicked after her final statement.

"…_dinner with my fiancé, Senju-san…"_

He narrowed his eyes. Of course. _She_ was the one who was marrying Hashirama. He had almost forgotten the Senju clan head mentioning his upcoming marriage… _especially since it was amidst all his other meaningless blather,_ he thought.

He hadn't heard much about the girl who was Hashirama's fiancée, but from their brief encounter, he had drawn a few conclusions for himself. She definitely wasn't as polite as she'd seemed. Even during her long and formal apology, he had glimpsed irritation in her body language before it was concealed under a façade of deference.

And what about the screaming episode? There was no way Madara was deceived by her pathetic excuse. She had screamed deliberately, and judging from the way she had desperately grabbed her hair, the cause was most certainly not external. She'd looked like someone who had finally allowed themselves to lose control after working very hard to maintain it.

But he wasn't about to let some Uzushiogakure girl invade his thoughts. He needed to let off some steam, and that was what he had come here to do in the first place.

And as he trained under the hot afternoon sun, he emptied his mind of unnecessary thoughts… excepting a young woman with hair like a blazing sunset and eyes that glinted like hardened, sharpened flint… at least, when she thought no one would notice.

* * *

A week later, Mito sat at an elaborate vanity, carefully combing out her crimson tresses. She hadn't seen the Uchiha clan head since their somewhat awkward initial meeting. Thoughts of the enigmatic man had flitted through her mind occasionally over the past few days… he was the kind of man that made you wonder what was hiding beneath the surface.

But she'd had so many things to occupy her that she hadn't had that much to consider the mystery of Uchiha Madara. Mito had been overwhelmed by new foods, customs, places, and of course, a multitude of new people. Not to mention the wedding planning.

Her fiancé had assigned some local ladies to not only show her around the village, but help her plan what was quickly becoming the largest and most elaborate wedding she had ever heard of. They'd barraged her with endless prattle about silks and satins and hydrangeas and roses and ceremonial procedures. Honestly, Mito didn't care that much. Even though this would be the only wedding she'd ever have, in her mind, it was just a formality. She wasn't marrying Hashirama for love, so what was there to celebrate?

She'd handled the situation as graciously as possible, simply saying that since they were from Konoha, wouldn't it be better to let them make these decisions? After all, they were more familiar with local customs. Unfortunately for Mito, that hadn't completely alleviated the constant questioning, although it had helped to stem it somewhat.

However, tonight would be different. It had been scheduled specifically so that she and Hashirama would have some… alone time. The thought made her somewhat uncomfortable, but she supposed she'd just have to deal with it. After all, they'd be married in a mere three weeks, and subsequently be doing a lot more than just… being alone. With a barely repressed shudder, Mito turned her attention back to the mirror in front of her.

Contemplating her reflection, she decided to leave her customary sealing tags behind and wear her hair down. After all, it was supposed to be an evening of relaxation, so she doubted she'd have to worry about it getting in the way. _Besides, _she thought as she threaded her fingers through a few locks, _it looks nice this way. Less… uptight, _she smiled to herself.

Mito heard someone bustling down the hall, and soon one of the young ladies, Reiko, burst into her room, arms overflowing with fabrics. "Mito-hime! I've brought a few kimonos for you to choose from! I hope it wasn't too presumptuous of me, but I thought that since tonight is special, you would want to select your own garments," she said excitedly, a huge grin dominating her face.

"How very thoughtful of you. Thank you, Reiko-san," Mito replied, smiling back at her.

"You are welcome! And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Reiko, Mito-hime?"

Mito chuckled. "As many times I have to ask you to call me Mito, of course." Over the past week, Mito had developed a friendship with her; Reiko may have not been a kunoichi, but Mito appreciated her candor and cheerfulness. Her bright green eyes were always bubbling with mirth, and it was rare that a smile was absent from her face. She had definitely brightened up Mito's own mood in the time they'd spent together.

"Alright, well I'll leave them here so you can choose, and then just have one of the other ladies come get me to help you dress!" With that, she left the room as abruptly as she'd entered.

As Mito wandered over to examine the different garments, her eye was drawn to a kimono of deep teal, embroidered with patterns in gold thread. The undergarment that went with it was a light blue, and there was a matching ochre obi. She knew right away that this was the one. As Mito stuck her head out the door and called for Reiko, she wondered what the night had in store.

* * *

It was twilight. Dusk had bathed Konoha in a smoky shadow, a few stray rays of sunset streaking over the landscape in deep pinks and ambers. And meanwhile Mito was _still _waiting for her… _What should I even call this? _she pondered. _A date, I guess. Weird. My first real date and it's with a guy who I am already going to marry._ She sighed audibly, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the porch post she was sitting near. She'd been ready for at least two hours already, and Hashirama still hadn't showed up. Her small feeling of excitement from earlier had long fizzled out. _So much for quality time._

She opened her eyes when she heard the faint sounds of footsteps down the street. A few moments later, a frazzled-looking Hashirama was right in front of her.

"Mito-san! I am so sorry," he panted. "I got held up at a meeting with Konoha's council, I tried to get away as soon as…" he paused for a moment, actually looking at his bride-to-be. If he were honest with himself, he'd realize she didn't exactly look happy to see him. But he couldn't help appreciatively taking her in with his eyes. "You look lovely," he said candidly.

Mito was a little thrown off by his forwardness, but she tried not to let it show, smoothly thanking him for his compliment and telling him his tardiness was fine. _Far from it! Shouldn't a clan head be a little more punctual? Goodness._

Getting up from her seated position on the porch, she followed him a little way down the dimly lighted street. As they strolled along, he filled her in on the details of his day, making light and easy conversation, and Mito felt herself slowly relaxing. For such a strong shinobi – and one that way practically a stranger – his idle talk put her at ease. _I guess I could get used to this man, _she conceded. _I'm going to have to, either way._

Hashirama even made her laugh once or twice, and she began feeling more and more relaxed in his presence. Eventually, they arrived at a small park, and he guided Mito over to bench, where they continued their easy conversation. That is, until he dropped a bombshell on her.

Mito blinked rapidly, as if clearing her vision would help her to process what she'd just heard. "Pardon me, but what did you just say?" she asked as politely as she was able.

"Well, Mito-san, at this time you are still not an official member of Konoha, so it's not a factor. But once we are married, I have decided that it would be best if you refrained from continuing in your shinobi lifestyle."

He continued talking, saying things like "risk to our future," and "your safety," and "children." Mito felt like her world had just imploded, and she was desperately trying to keep her temper in check. He wanted her to _give up_ everything that she had worked so hard for? Stop being a kunoichi? _Is he absolutely __**insane**__?! _she shrieked inwardly.

Oblivious to his fiancée's inner turmoil, Hashirama reached over and grasped her hand in his own. "I know it's probably something you'd already decided for yourself, but I just wanted you to know I'd come to the conclusion, also. It's for the best."

Still silent, Mito tried regulating her breathing in order to calm herself. She put on her best fake smile and turned to him, "Thank you, Senju-san. I appreciate your concern very much."

He slid closer to her, drawing her toward him with his free arm around her shoulders. "I knew you would understand," he whispered.

One moment Mito was breathing in through her nose, out through her mouth, and the next, she found herself unable to breathe at all. Hashirama had leaned closer and gently pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

Madara was on his way to his favorite _private _secluded lake when he saw something that had him pausing for a second look. Off to the side of the path, there were two people on a bench, dimly illuminated by a nearby lamp. One look at the long dark hair of the first individual revealed it to be Hashirama. But who was the other? Silently slipping into the tree line and continuing parallel to the path, he soon realized it was a certain redheaded girl from Uzushiogakure and… Hashirama was kissing her. _Good for him, _he thought. _Maybe it's a sign that from now on, he'll be too busy with his fiancée to bother me with mundane matters and we can focus on strengthening our village._

But at second glance, he saw details he'd missed the first time around. Like how stiff she was… and the fact that her eyes were wide open and filled with what looked like shock and… anger? That couldn't be right.

As Madara watched from the shadows, Hashirama pulled away slightly, leaning his forehead against Mito's. His hand moved to cup the side of her face, and he whispered to her, but not so quietly that Madara couldn't hear him.

"Mito… soon I am going to be your husband, and you, my wife. I hope that… although this union is arranged, you can grow to love me, eventually."

At last, Mito closed her eyes, and gave him a strained nod. "I will keep an open mind."

"That's all I can ask for," Hashirama replied as he pulled away. "Would you like me to escort you home now?"

Mito swallowed and slowly shook her head. "I'll be fine. I'd… to stay here and think for a while, if you don't mind."

He gave her hand a squeeze and gave her a meaningful look. "Alright. Goodnight, Mito-san."

With that, he finally left. Madara observed Mito as she took deep breaths and finally opened her eyes. They were as hard as the flint whose color they echoed, and her fists clenched in the fabric of her kimono. Suddenly, she got up and stalked off down the path.

The show over, Madara slipped farther into the depths of the forest, casually making his own way to his intended destination.

* * *

"He thinks he can tell me to stop being a ninja?! That STUPID! SELF-CENTERED! SEXIST! PRICK!"

Each screeched insult was punctuated by the sound of fists colliding with a tree. As Madara entered the clearing where his lake was, he was greeted by the sight of a very angry Mito, who had evidently been taking out her frustration on the innocent trees in the area. Some were smoldering, others were splintered, and one was basically reduced to mulch. There was absolute _fury_ in every line of her body, her muscles visibly taut as she readied for another attack.

"SENJUUUUU!"

She'd literally growled the name like it was an obscenity, and had uprooted part of the tree with the force of her attack as she'd screamed.

Madara wondered why his ears always had to be the ones subjected to this torture. He was seriously considering the theory that this woman was actually a banshee in disguise. But when the clearing was silent other than the heavy breathing of the irate kunoichi, he cleared his throat to alert her to his presence.

She whirled around and met his calm, appraising gaze, her eyes still blazing with rage.

* * *

Mito was feeling better with the beatings she gave to each successive tree. Who said taking out your anger on inanimate objects wasn't satisfying? It had always worked for her. Plus, since the individual she was so incensed at was a man who could grow them on command, it felt like the trees were appropriate surrogates to unleash her fury on.

Finally slowing, she bent at the waist and put her hands on her knees, catching her breath.

And then she heard it. Someone cleared their throat. A man. And she had a feeling it was the same man that had interrupted her releasing her pent-up frustration the week prior. But at the moment, she really wasn't that concerned about keeping up the image of the perfect, subservient woman in front of him. Mito was far more agitated this time around, and she wouldn't be able to hide it if she tried. So she decided to be honest and let her annoyance at being interrupted be made known.

Rapidly turning around, she didn't disguise the raw anger coursing through her, meeting his detached gaze with irritation and defiance.

"Can I _help_ you with something, Uchiha-dono?" she bit out, sarcasm dripping from every word. Maybe it was the cover of night, maybe she was too far gone in her rampage… but she just didn't care. "I'm in the middle of something here, if you don't mind."

"Do you see where you are, Uzumaki-san?" Madara asked, his calm expression never once faltering.

"Yes, I see where I am, and frankly, I don't care at the moment," Mito said, irked.

He raised an eyebrow, "Uzumaki-san, I came here to train, and that would be somewhat hindered by your presence, if _you_ don't mind." Irritation finally seeped into his voice with the last phrase.

Mito pondered his statement for a moment. Then she got a look on her face like she had come up with a brilliant plan. "Ah, I'm sorry. But… you say you came here to train. Would you… spar with me?"

"Uzumaki-san, I don't know if-" he began.

"Please!"

At the earnest plea, he decided one night of training below par wouldn't dull his skills _too_ much. Plus, judging from the destruction already decorating the clearing, she might prove to be an interesting opponent.

"As you wish, Uzumaki-san," he conceded.

In an instant, she'd shed her obi and the outer layer of her kimono and dropped into a fighting stance.

And Mito… laughed, almost… gleefully, her smile then transforming into what could be classified as nothing less than a smirk.

"Let's do this."

* * *

Forty minutes later, she wasn't smirking anymore. Her face was streaked with sweat and dirt, and her lips were set in a determined line, her entire attention focused on the ninja she was sparring with. Madara quelled the urge to let loose a smirk of his own. He wasn't the cofounder of Konoha and head of his clan for nothing, after all.

However, he had to admit that he was impressed. Before they'd begun, he'd limited the fight to taijustu only, as he really didn't want to be forced to explain to Hashirama how he'd accidentally incinerated his fiancée. But she was holding her own, despite his advantages in both size and speed. She'd managed to hit him a few times, and the force behind her blows was far more than her small frame suggested she'd be capable of.

But he could see she was nearing exhaustion, her anger finally waning, and Madara decided that it was time to bring their fight to an end. He leapt toward her again, and though she managed to block or evade his first few strikes, within a few seconds he had her pinned on the ground, face first.

"I win," and _now_ he allowed himself a smirk.

Mito struggled under him for a moment before sagging into the ground. "Okay, you win," she admitted.

He moved aside, allowing her to get up, and she dusted herself off as she did so.

Madara expected her to leave at that point, but instead, she turned to him and met his eyes with a strange seriousness.

"Thank you. For sparring with me. And viewing me as a worthy adversary," she said quietly. Honestly. Gratefully.

For a moment, he felt as if the image of her was being burned into his retinae… moonlight spilling over her pale, dirt-streaked skin, her scarlet hair in disarray, wreathing her like a halo… but more importantly, her _eyes._ Thinking about it later, he'd tell himself there was really nothing special about them, but the way she looked at him with such sincerity and openness… he felt like he was being drawn into those charcoal depths.

Little did he know he was looking back at her just as intensely as he hoarsely replied, "You're welcome."

And then, for the second time in one night, one of the founders of Konoha disappeared, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

* * *

**A/N: **Wow! Thanks so much to the two who decided to follow this fic! I was totally shocked at having that type of response so soon.

yay for more madamito interactions!

Also, regarding the "undergarment" of the kimono - I'm not sure what it's actually called. When I was visiting a friend in Japan, she literally called it "underwear" when she was helping me put it on, and that didn't really feel appropriate haha.

"Help I'm Alive" by Metric - don't own :)


	3. half-truths

_Don't think, don't talk,  
__But I don't think I want to_

'_Cause you give me the electric twist  
__and it kicks like, kicks like, a pony  
__And true, you might get away with it_

_It's a risk, it's a risk, yeah._

The next morning, Mito awoke to the sun brightly streaming in her window and birds happily chirping in the plum tree outside. For a moment, she just laid there with her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of basking in the sun. She felt well-rested and… _owwww! _She winced as she stretched, and pulled aside her robe to see a large bruise forming on her ribcage.

At the sight of that, she realized she felt rested because she had actually _needed _the rest. Because she'd actually exerted herself for the first time since she'd arrived in Konoha. Because she'd been… crazy, was that the word? _Yes, totally and completely crazy,_ she assured herself. She'd sparred with Uchiha Madara. Shaking her head, Mito reviewed the other events of the evening, a look of disgust on her face when she remembered her fiancé's mandate. She sighed, and went to put her head in her hands… _crap! _Her hands were still filthy, and there was dirt caked under her nails. She scrambled over to her vanity, not imagining that her face looked much better.

She was right. Good thing she had come in through her garden door the night before, because her appearance was _sure_ to raise some questions that she didn't feel like answering. She was going to have to sneak back out of her room to take a bath before anyone saw her in this state.

With a sigh, Mito slid out the back door, making her way to the bath as quickly as possible.

* * *

Once she'd hurriedly washed off the incriminating dirt and grime, Mito decided that she deserved a nice, long soak. Now that she'd released most of her anger about the situation, she could think about the situation a little more rationally.

Sinking further down into the hot water, she made a conscious effort to relax her sore muscles and take deep breaths as she settled in.

_First things first… I can't oppose Hashirama on the matter. He's given it a lot of thought and… maybe he's right. _It went completely against the grain for her, but Mito knew that given the type of life she was slated to live, it made sense. She'd be the wife of a clan leader, a prominent man in the village, and everyone expected her to be a support for him. Despite the strength of the clans that made up Konoha, it was still a fledgling village. It needed Hashirama. And apparently, what he needed was wife who led a stable, civilian lifestyle.

Letting her head fall back against the rock behind her, she contemplated the duties she could look forward to… and unfortunately, she couldn't come up with many. Other than taking care of her husband and having heirs for him, what was she supposed to do? Sit around twiddling her thumbs? Wasting her skills as a kunoichi? _I guess so, _she thought resignedly. _I'll just have to come up with some things to occupy myself. But I'm not going to let myself get rusty! Even if I can't be a ninja, I can still train! I'll do it in secret if I have to_.

With that determination made, her thoughts drifted back to the other events of the previous night, namely her encounter with Madara. It had been a rush, sparring with him. He was quicker than anyone she'd seen, and she saw his eyes light with appreciation when he realized that she was talented in her own right. It was… _exciting_, she thought with a grin. _I wonder if he'd be willing to let me fight him again. But after I thanked him… it felt he was being a little...weird? Like he was trying to see right into my soul, or something, _she pondered. _Maybe I was just imagining it. After all, I don't even know him. But still…_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a group of women coming into the bath, happily chatting away. "Oh, Mito-hime! This is where you were!"

She instantly recognized the voice of one of her other assigned ladies, Yuka. Mito begrudgingly opened her eyes, knowing that her alone time was decidedly over.

As they entered the bath, Reiko came right up to her and looked her over. "You look tired, Mito-hime," she began concernedly, "…maybe because you didn't return from your _alone time_ with your handsome fiancée until the _middle of the night_?" By the end of her question, she wore a wicked grin, making her intent clear.

At the scandalous implication, Mito felt her cheeks color. "Nothing inappropriate happened, Reiko-san!" she answered with a bit of indignation.

Reiko just threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Mito-hime. Don't be so serious. I was only joking," she said. She leaned in closer so the rest of the girls wouldn't be able to hear her and continued in a conspiratorial whisper, "Besides… if anything _did _happen, it's not like it would be wrong. He _is _your fiancé, after all." Winking, Reiko made her way to sit a little further down the wall.

Mito decided she'd had enough of bath time, and pulled herself out over the edge, grabbing for her towel when Yuka gasped and exclaimed, "Mito-hime! Your ribs! Are you okay?"

She cursed inwardly. She'd forgotten about the bruise. In a matter of seconds, the girls were crowded around, fussing over her like she was child. Irritated, Mito quickly dismissed them with, "It was just an accident. Don't worry. I'm fine."

Snatching her towel and resisting the urge to bang her head on the nearest wall, she hurriedly exited the bath and hoped they'd buy her bogus excuse.

As Mito threw her clothes on, she couldn't help but overhear Yuka through the thin door.

"I- I didn't mean to upset her… I've never heard Mito-hime speak like that before! Oh no…"

"Yuka, don't worry." This time it was Reiko's cheerful voice. "She's probably just upset that we are onto her about just how _well_ she and Hashirama-dono were getting along last night!"

Some nervous laughter followed that, and soon they were once again giggling and talking as usual. Mito rolled her eyes, _What typical girls. But it's probably better if they think that Hashirama was the one I stayed out with… and that we are getting along well. I'd rather have them thinking that I had a good time with my fiancée than them finding out the truth._

The truth … that she _had_ been having a good time. Just not with the man they thought.

* * *

"Madara! Where are you?!"

The front door banged open, and even without the telltale familiarity of the greeting, Madara would have recognized his best friend's cheerful brashness in a heartbeat. Not to mention he'd sensed Hashirama's ridiculously huge chakra even when it was far from his doorstep.

Rolling his eyes, he made his way to the entryway, and Hashirama grabbed his arms and shook him a little, huge grin on his face. "Tonight! Dinner! You have to be there!"

"Okay, okay, Hashirama… what's going on?" he queried, extracting his arms from the Senju's grip.

"Well, since Mito arrived, she hasn't had much time to spend really getting to know anyone except for me the ladies I asked to help her…" at this, he donned a contemplative look. "I thought it would be good to get some people together so that she can start becoming closer to those in the village, and they to her. What do you think? Besides, I want to know what you think about her!"

"Hashirama… you know how I feel about these types of social events…" he began.

Immediately, Hashirama sank into one of his trademark sulking sessions, looking totally defeated. "Alright… if you can't spare a couple of hours for your best friend…" he trailed off meaningfully.

Madara decided to cave, just this once. Besides, he had to admit, spending some time in Mito's vicinity would most likely be interesting… after their midnight spar, he'd found himself wondering what other potential was lurking beneath the surface.

"Okay, okay... I'll come."

His depression vanishing as suddenly as it had appeared, Hashirama started elatedly describing all the reasons why the evening would be amazing – he was personally overseeing everything, and the daimyo would be there-

"But I'm only staying as long as absolutely necessary. No longer," Madara cut in, and his tone made it clear that this was not up for discussion.

"If you insist, Madara. But remember what I told you – I want you to be the Hokage, and it will be difficult without the backing of the Fire Country's officials. Just think about it," he said seriously. Returning to his excited demeanor, he continued, "Anyway! My place at 6:30 – don't be late!"

With that, he left to finish preparing for the evening. Madara shook his head, smiling a little at his friend's ridiculous antics. But thinking about what Hashirama had mentioned about the decision as far as who would be Hokage, the corners of his mouth turned down into a contemplative frown. He was probably right… Madara had no illusions about the general attitude regarding him, especially the one that Hashirama's own brother had. Though it wasn't as if he was any fonder of the silver-haired Senju.

Making his way back through the hallway, he shook off that train of thought. There were other things that were more interesting than Tobirama's disdain for him… like a certain kunoichi, and he found himself wondering which side of her would be present for dinner.

* * *

A few hours later, Mito was feeling more than a little overwhelmed. The dinner itself hadn't been that elaborate or eventful, but she felt like she was drowning in a sea of guests, formalities, and niceties. She'd felt a moment of panic when Hashirama had introduced her to Madara, wondering if he'd spilled the beans about their late-night sparring session. But evidently, he hadn't, and they "met" with perfect social graces.

Her relief about that was short-lived however, since one group after another were now introducing themselves and asking her a multitude of questions. Among the people questioning her at the moment was a particularly irritating man: Hideyoshi, the head of the Shimura clan.

"So, Uzumaki-san, what are your plans to contribute to this village once you and Senju-san are married? What can you bring to the table?" he asked, condescension evident in his voice.

And Mito had _had_ it. Her patience had already been wearing thin, and she was on the verge of giving him a piece of her mind when she felt someone firmly place a hand on her arm.

She turned her head, her wide charcoal eyes meeting the profile of her fiancé. He was calm, but he wasted no time in answering Hideyoshi's question for her.

"Mito-san will be assisting with the academy, one of the most vital tasks to be cared for in our growing village," he said with a tight smile. "I'm sure you'll agree, Shimura-san, that caring for and educating our children are of the utmost importance, since our future and the future of our village will lie in their hands."

_What? _thought Mito. _This is the first I've heard of it! But hey, if it shuts this crotchety old grump up… fine by me. Hmph._

That proved to be the case, as Hideyoshi was unable to respond with anything other than a quick assent. He excused himself to greet other guests, hurrying away much like a dog with its tail between its legs.

"Now if the rest of you will excuse us," Hashirama began amiably, "I'd like to have a few moments to myself with my fiancée." He grinned, "I'm sure you understand."

The others drifted off, and he used the hand he still had on Mito's arm to guide her to a dimly lit corner, somewhat secluded from the noise and guests by a sheer curtain. Against the wall behind the curtain was a plush divan. He motioned for her to sit down, and he sat as well.

Mito began feeling a little uncomfortable, since the position was reminiscent of the night before when he had kissed her. Despite his proximity, she trained her eyes on the ground. However, he made no move to do so again, instead only sliding his fingers down her arm to envelop her hand.

"Mito…" he began as he stroked her knuckles with his thumb. "Look at me."

When she made no move to do so, he grasped her chin and gently turned her face to his. For a few pregnant seconds, they just looked at each other; her expression a little puzzled, his completely serious.

"Mito…" he started again. His brow furrowed marginally as he continued, "I am very sorry. About Shimura-san. Are you alright?"

She found herself nodding jerkily, and he offered her a small smile, taking his fingers from her face and moving her free hand so that he was holding both of her hands in his own.

Mito broke the silence, "What you said to Shimura-san… about me helping with the academy… were you being serious?"

"Ah! I'm sorry if I surprised you," he said apologetically. "But I meant what I said. I have been thinking about what you might want to do now that we've decided you won't be an active ninja. So I thought you might be interested in imparting your knowledge to others. And it will be a good way for you to get to know the others in the village."

As she had watched him explain, a small smile grew on her face. _He's really thought about this. I guess he doesn't think I'm useless… and he actually cares about me. Maybe he __**doesn't**__ just view me as a political pawn or a weak woman._ The thought was comforting. Although Hashirama still didn't know the depth of her unhappiness, he was still doing what he could to make her feel better.

"So, what do you think? Of course, if you don't want to, I underst-"

"I'd love to," Mito broke in. She looked up into the dark eyes of her fiancé, "Thank you."

She leaned her head on his shoulder and in that moment – with his strong, capable hands cradling hers and his broad shoulder under her cheek – she felt that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

They sat there silently, the sounds of clinking glasses and conversation seeming so very distant, like it was another universe outside of the gauzy partition.

She felt Hashirama carefully turn his head to regard her, and as she gazed up at him, she thought maybe it wouldn't be so terrible if he kissed her again. His thoughts seemed to be traveling along the same lines as he angled his jaw, his lips now poised to capture hers.

Suddenly, their private world was invaded by the unmistakable noise of a raised voice. Hashirama sighed and rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he brushed an errant piece of hair away from her face and began getting up.

"What is it?" Mito asked, curious who would concern him this much.

He sighed again, more exasperatedly than before, and said with mild irritation, "Tobirama."

* * *

At the moment, Madara was resisting the very strong urge to punch Tobirama right in his irritating, mouthy face. Clenching his fist, he could imagine just how the other man's bones would give way beneath it. He could practically hear the satisfying crunch of hand to nose or cheek or eye socket… _or all three in succession_, he fantasized.

However, rather than give in to his baser instincts, he remained leaning against the veranda's railing as nonchalantly as possible. He knew nothing would anger the younger Senju more than refusing to rise to the bait. And besides, judging from the redness on his cheekbones and the rank odor of his breath, Tobirama had had more than a little too much to drink.

"Uchiha…" Tobirama began, spitting the name like an expletive. "You n' I both know… you're no good. You'll never be as good as Hashi. Why'nt ya just admit it?" he slurred, poking Madara in the chest, the bottle dangling from his fingers bumping against it.

Madara just regarded him coolly, his facial expression somewhere between irritation, condescension, and pity. But Tobirama just kept going.

"You weren't good enough to protect your brothers. You weren't even strong enough to protect your _precious_ Izuna from me!" he declared loudly. Proudly.

And that was a mistake. Madara was generally a patient man, but bringing his family into an argument never ended well. He started shaking, almost imperceptibly. And when he looked up at the Senju, his eyes were the deep red and black of the eternal mangekyo sharingan.

"Don't," he growled warningly, "make light of my brother's death."

Tobirama giggled ridiculously. "You should be happy, Uchiha," he said mockingly. "After all, if Izuna-kun hadn't died, you wouldn't have those nice eyes of yours, would you?"

Madara was about to show him exactly what his "nice eyes" could do when chakra flared around them, the sheer amount of it almost a physical pressure. Tobirama's eyes widened as he dropped his bottle and Madara turned to face the new arrival.

It didn't surprise him in slightest to see his best friend standing there, although Mito trailing behind him dutifully wasn't really what he was expecting. She seemed unsure what to do in the tense situation, and just hung back near the shoji, watching them a little apprehensively.

"Tobirama. Stop. That. Is. Enough." Hashirama stated decisively, the immense power radiating from him reminding his younger brother that this was not a request.

"Uh, Hashi… I'm sorry…" he began lamely.

"Enough!" Hashirama boomed.

Turning his attention to Madara, he simply said, "I'm sorry."

"I know," Madara replied evenly, his eyes twisting back into their usual shade of deep grey-black. He moved back to lean over the railing, having nothing else to say.

"Mito," he heard behind him, "Tobirama has had far too much to drink. I'd better get him back to his rooms now, before he makes an even bigger fool of himself. Will you be alright?"

"Ah… yes. Please don't worry about me. Just take care of Tobirama-san," a soft, feminine voice replied.

Madara heard Hashirama hoist his blubbering brother over his shoulder, and then a whispered, "Goodnight, Mito" and the telltale sound of lips on skin.

With that, Hashirama's impressive presence was gone, and small shuffling steps alerted him to the young woman coming toward him. She leaned next to him on the edge of the veranda, sleeve of her kimono brushing his bare arm.

He turned to look at her, and found her looking up at the night sky. The apples of her cheeks held a slight blush - no doubt from Hashirama's kiss – as she gazed up at the stars. She tore her eyes away to meet his, and said, "So."

"So," he repeated.

"That was… intense," she understated with a raised eyebrow.

"It was," Madara affirmed.

"Guess my brother-in-law to-be can't hold his liquor too well, huh?" Her mouth quirked up at one corner, and she turned back to look at the sky. "You know… if you want to talk about it… I'm here," she offered.

What was it about this girl's simple statements that left him feeling at a loss for words? _Maybe it's because no one actually treats you this way_, his thoughts suggested. _No one speaks to you with such sincerity. And she hardly even knows you._ He continued observing her, taking in the way the wind played with the loose strands of her hair and the shy smile on her lips.

When he didn't say anything, she turned back to him cheerfully. "Well. If you don't want to, that's fine too." Mito started back toward the house, but as she slid open the shoji, she paused, her hand still on the door. "But if you decide differently… I might just be near a certain lake later on tonight."

And then she was gone, this time being the one to leave him behind with his thoughts.

Contemplating her offer, he stared hard out at the dark as if it could give him a sign as to what he should do.

* * *

A/N: Wahhh! Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited/followed! I can't believe it :D

Meant to post this yesterday, but this exposition is tough for me. I am really eager to get to the really good angsty stuff haha :)

I know not a whole lot happened this chapter but(!) next chapter = serious talk-time!

Lyrics from Electric Twist by A Fine Frenzy.


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